


keep on rollin’, baby (you know what time it is)

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blowjobs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Masturbation, POV Bellamy Blake, Police Officer Bellamy Blake, Public Sex, cop!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Oh myohmy,officer,” she chuckles. “ Someone’s being a naughty boy.” Then she winks at him, puts the stem of her sunglasses into her mouth, licking around the edge. “It’s gonna be our little secret.”“Miss, sucking my cock won’t get you out of this.”Although ... if he is being honest with himself, he’d like to see her try.It’s a beast.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 221
Collections: Anonymous, The 100 Kinkmeme Round 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt: Cop!Bellamy pulls Clarke over for speeding. Instead of giving her a ticket, he lets her suck his cock through her window so she can go with just a warning.

It’s been a long day for Bellamy.

He volunteered to pull a 12 hours shift, thankfully the last one for a while, unless someone gets sick, or worse. 

He doesn’t want to think about it.

He is on patrol duty outside of town with his partner for the week, Officer Murphy - or just Murphy, outside of work. 

Patrol duties can be quite taxing inside the town, with everything happening all around, as a police officer he has to be on high alert and ready for immediate action, make decisions in a split second. So yeah, it’s more responsibility, same money, more headaches.

Out of town, it’s different. It’s fewer people, to begin with. Which can be good and bad, it depends on the day. On a nice day like this, patrol duty outside of town mostly means monitoring unusual traffic activity and registering the speeders. Answer some calls in the vicinity. 

They’ve been doing their rounds for over eight hours, only stopping for lunch, and then four times more because his partner drank too much soda and he had to pee which felt like every ten minutes.

With still four hours to go, the day feels like it’s never going to end. 

Apart from that, it’s been a pretty uneventful day. 

Despite the nice weather, the traffic is scarce, not counting the few speeders they caught just outside of the main road’s connecting line, leading into the city. It’s a ramrod straight drive, but everyone and their mother knows there’s a speed limit due to being so close to a connecting road to _Wallace & Wallace Breeding _ facility, that is covered by a strip of thick forest.

Everyone knows it, yet, especially because of that — because it’s perfect for letting loose a little and push a little harder on the gas pedal — many people go over the speed limit. Despite the several warning signs.

Some of it, he thinks, is the prospect of getting caught, the prospect of that additional rush of being in the wrong.

In his experience, that’s how many accidents happen; thanks to his line of work, he is privy to some pretty gruesome statistics.

It’s been a sunny day so far, with no clouds in the sky; if the forecasts are right, it will stay like until his shift is over in a few hours but even for the following few more days. The weather is at least cooperative. 

Officer Murphy’s been - let’s put it this way - not on his best behaviour for the past few days. He broke up with his girlfriend, again - or rather, his girlfriend broke up with him - which means he is drowning his sorrows into _Candy Crush_ and passive-aggressively swiping left and right (mostly left) on _Tinder_.

He is too stubborn to admit he misses her; he’s too stubborn to admit he wants his girl back. And he is too stubborn to admit that it was his fault when she told him to ‘go on a break’. It usually is.

 _“Jesus,_ would you at least mute your phone? I’m gonna have nightmares.”

“Life sucks, Officer Blake.”

When he spots the speeding red convertible it’s truly a godsend.

“Oh, fuck,” Murphy curses next to him, as Bellamy starts their patrol car without warning and changes gears. “You could have warned me. Now, this level is lost. I was so close.”

“Officer, I envy your troubles, really, I do. But, “ he pauses, breathing harder now, eyes focused on the car before them before he bothers to speak up louder over the noise of the engine,” duty calls.”

“Aye, aye, Captain. You want me to call it in?”

“Not yet.”

His sirens are blaring and he’s about to change gears again when he sees the speeder slowing down. He steps on the break, too, slowing down and signals with a hand outside the window to pull over.

He didn’t catch a good look on the driver yet but if his eyes didn’t trick him it’s a pretty blonde girl behind the wheel.

Great. It’s just great.

The Sun is only setting in about an hour, the top is still down. 

He sighs heavily, as he pulls the hand brake, and cuts the engine off.

He knows the type. He knows all about them; had his fair share in stopping the local jocks speeding all over the town, trying to prove they have full control over an accelerating, expensive car; trying to prove they are invincible and post their stories on Insta. Now, that’s the stupidest.

Or, they are speeding, simply because they can. 

Not on his watch.

She’s gonna use all the tricks in the book.

She’ll cry. 

She’ll flirt.

She’ll pretend she didn’t know and she’ll tell him she is innocent.

Maybe pop a button or two on her blouse.

More crying.

He knows the type.

He hates the type.

*

“Officer Murphy,” he says, gruff. 

Officer Murphy’s been already close to insufferable today, so no one can blame Bellamy if his fellow officer’s mood is rubbing off on him. 

But said partner already has his phone out, alluding that Bellamy could (and would) take care of the careless driver on his own.

“Don’t even pretend to be a man of the law, will you?” 

His voice is laced with sarcasm. Bite him.

He is indeed capable of taking care of one driver on his own. It’s just one lone girl. 

And Bellamy can certainly be the better person and let Murphy continue playing _Candy Crush_ or going through his _Tinder_ feed undisturbed (when that is what he wants) for a bit longer, if that makes him feel better.

It’s fine. As long as he has his back when the situation demands it. 

He voices as much.

“Alright. Let me handle this one.”

Murphy shrugs and puts a foot on the dashboard, the telltale signs of a new game already starting up.

Bellamy sighs, shaking his head as he grabs for the flashlight and checks the safety on his gun. All good. 

Showtime.

“Shout if you cannot handle the Princess, boss. I’ll have your back, don’t worry.”

Bellamy snorts in response. Some days he is convinced his partner was raised by wolves.

He knocks the top of the car twice and starts walking.

“You just... Stay put. I’ve got this.”

“Aye, aye.”

He walks to the parking car deliberately slow, taking his time. Let the Princess have some extra time to come up with her story.

It’s gonna be touching. He is sure.

It’s a Porsche. Not the newest model, but it’s certainly in impeccable condition; not a single scratch, nor a patch of dust in sight. It’s so impossibly shiny, reflecting the few wispy clouds swimming across high in the sky.

When he spots her, he kind of agrees that this car suits her the most.

He stops a measured distance away from the vehicle and clears his throat.

“Licence and registration please.”

He doesn’t have to wait long, because she opens her door almost at the same time, turning her body to face him fully and greet him. _“Hello,_ Officer Handsome.”

He rolls his eyes.

Not too original.

But what did he expect?

Her license plate reads, **SUNSHINE**. 

Of course. She is one of those.

“Am I in trouble, Officer?”

He mentally snorts, because he is still a professional and won’t give her any tangible ammunition she could potentially use against him later. Proper policeman behaviour and all. Instead, he keeps his features unfazed. He is a professional.

The girl - he mentally refers to as _Sunshine_ \- steps out of the car and hands her documents over.

He learns her name is Clarke Griffin (a pretty name for a pretty girl) and that she is not a freshly minted driver, at least; she has had some practice seemingly over the past five years. She’s twenty-five.

What strikes him, now, that she is standing in front of him, that she looks strikingly beautiful. Even with her oversized sunglasses perching on her nose and hiding most of her face. It’s a shame. Her blonde hair is styled into a loose braid to one side, with a few tufts of hair gotten loose due to the wind, framing her rosy cheekbones perfectly. Sinful red lips, in the colour of ripe cherries and a single mole sitting invitingly above her lip.

She is a goddess.

He cannot see the colour of her eyes through the tinted lenses of her glasses but he bets they are blue. There is no other way; he pictures her eyes just as blue as the sky above. Exactly like the sky on a day like this.

 _“Miss,_ would you remove your glasses please?”

She sighs, smiles innocently at him as she obeys him. He hums as a way of thanking her silently for her wordless obedience.

Yep, just like he thought. They are a pretty blue.

His eyes keep roaming over her; there’s something about her that draws the attention like a magnet. Judging by the silence, she does the same. 

She is wearing a flowy black skirt that surprisingly reaches below her knees, a white tank top, classic style - nothing revealing, no buttons - and red ballerinas, matching her lips.

It puts a small smile on his lips.

How can someone be so cute and sexy at the same time, and without an effort - is beyond his grasp.

Too bad he has to punish her for her transgression.

He clears his throat.

“Miss, do you have any idea how fast you were driving?”

She shakes her head innocently.

“Close to twenty over the allowed speed limit. It’s extremely dangerous.”

And there it is. She drops the smile, her baby blues widening in surprise, then, in a matter of seconds, her lush lips are quivering. She is on the verge of crying - pleading him to let this pass without as much as uttering a word.

And it seems to work on him to some extent. His breathing is picking up an uneven pattern, against his will. He tries to keep a straight face, though.

He asks her to walk in a straight line for him and — she looks fine. She wasn’t driving erratically, no, she was speeding. He’s considered asking her to take the breathalyzer, but there’s no reason to, she wasn’t drinking, and she is not high, that much is clear as day. 

In fact, she’s a _Category 3_ on the _Officer Blake scale:_ She drove fast because she owns a nice ride, inside and out, and she knows it. Engine purring like a cat, in the colour of burning fire.

If he doesn’t teach her a lesson now, no one will.

“I’m going to have to report this, Miss, and give you a ticket.”

“I - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - -

“I mean, I didn’t even realize I was driving so fast. I never drive over the speed limit. I swear. 

“Officer _, please,_ you have to believe me. 

“I never had an incident before, not even a parking ticket in my life. You can check it. Please. 

“My Daddy is gonna be so disappointed in me if I -

_“Please.”_

Bellamy heaves a sigh, and turns around to see what Murphy is doing; a second opinion would be nice, right about now. 

He narrows his eyes towards their parking vehicle as if that would make his eyesight sharper. His contacts are new, and they made his life significantly better already, but they will still take some time to get used to after having used the dailies and the glasses for so long. It’s a minor inconvenience, yet times like this he cannot help and feel weak. Weak for not being in control, not being able to be on top of his game.

Officer Murphy - who’s ‘got his back’ - seems to be still on his phone. Of course. 

His first thought is, _at least someone’s having fun._ The second, _shush, he is not a bad cop._ He just needs guidance when he is lost, and with everything happening in his private life... oh boy, is he lost.

With that in mind, he turns back to the matter at hand. No more stalling. He has a job to do. Period. 

He took down two bulky guys a head taller than him just last week during a riot. If that didn’t make him break a sweat, why would a girl so sweet like Clarke Griffin do? Handling her and her moving violation should be a piece of cake.

“Miss, _please._ Why don’t you sit down? Take a deep breath.“

She surprises him, yet again because she actually listens to him and follows his instructions step by step.

“Yes. Just like that. Breathe in. And now out. In. And now out. That’s it. “

She is behind the wheel now, slumped back in her seat, her door promptly closed behind her as if she needed the physical barrier between them to keep her safe. Her sunglasses are back on - part of the act, he suspects - a means to cover her fake tears and flowing mascara or whatnot.

Now, she is harder to read.

She is silent for a while. After a minute or so, it’s getting a little unnerving for him. She may think she can tire him out and he’ll let her go without consequences but he wasn’t born yesterday. He also doesn’t have all day to play this game. 

He inches a bit closer to her door, and, using his best soothing voice, he addresses her.

“Miss, how are you feeling? You doing alright?”

She dramatically sighs, flicking her wrist to give her _dire_ condition more emphasis.

“Miss—“ he starts, decided but careful. Before he can finish, she stops him with the sweetest voice.

“How about I suck your cock instead?”

He blinks at her in surprise. She cannot be serious. Offering sex to a police officer, a man of the law, in exchange for what? Overlooking the violation of the law, he swore to uphold, no matter how minor said violation is, is a punishable felony on its own grounds.

“Miss—“

“Officer,” she moves, removing her sunglasses, looking him up and down with more intent behind it. Then, finally, her gaze falls onto his crotch and she tilts her head to the side, a dangerous, wolfish smile slowly making an appearance at the corners of her mouth. “I really want to suck your cock.”

She is truly something. He will give her that.

He replies with his most unimpressed expression, keeping his voice even.

“Miss, you were over the speed limit by twenty miles. Getting a speeding ticket is not the end of the world. It’s a minor violation. You were irresponsible. And I have to advise you never to do that again and follow the law.” 

“Officer, you don’t seem to understand,” she fidgets, trying to find a more comfortable position on her seat.” I really, _really really really really_ want to suck your cock. I’m sure it’s ... going to be more educational to me than a speeding ticket. And -“ she looks down pointedly, under his belt area, that wolfish look back in her gaze tenfold,” certainly more challenging than the road.”

Fuck.

Is she ... 

No, it cannot be.... 

But what if...

No.

Is it possible that she is turned on?

His cock - against his will - jumps into action and twitches at the thought of making her wet without doing anything substantial; he didn’t touch her, he was careful not to, it must be the uniform. And said cock is steadily growing as she keeps undressing him with her eyes without any signs of embarrassment or ounce of shame. He is undeniably getting hard. The very real evidence of his growing arousal is pushing against his pants, his cock wants to get free from its confines, now visible to her, too.

“Oh my _ohmy,_ officer,” she chuckles. “ Someone’s being a naughty boy.” Then she winks at him, puts the stem of her sunglasses into her mouth, licking around the edge. “It’s gonna be our little secret.”

_Goddamit._

He swallows, exhaling sharp, then sucking some fresh air into his lungs; maybe that helps to clear his head from the fog already taking over. He tries to rebuff her claim as calmly as possible.

“Miss, sucking my cock won’t get you out of this.”

Although ... if he is being honest with himself, he’d like to see her try.

It’s a beast.

Fuck, he wants to see her try. Miss Sunshine sucking his cock, whilst his partner is waiting for him in the car behind them.... is so wrong. But, and this is a big but, the thought of Miss Sunshine giving him a blowjob at the side of the road as the Sun is setting in the background, whilst his partner is watching his back, hardly forty feet away is fucking poetic and gives him a fucking rush.

“Are you sure about that?” She pouts petulantly, which helps nothing with his crumbling self-control, only making her lips, her mouth so much more inviting.

He wants it. 

No. He craves for it.

*

He hands her papers back to her, which she accepts with a frown. She bites on her lip, confused, but she opens her purse and carefully tucks her ID and driving licence away. When that’s done, she drops the purse into the tote bag on the shotgun. 

Her confusion is fascinating to Bellamy. 

He takes a step, bending his body forward slightly. Not too intruding, just enough that allows him to have a better look at her face, and she at his.

When she finally glances up at him, she is clearly surprised to find him closer than she remembers seeing him last.

She opens her mouth to ask, arching an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she waits for him.

 _“Sweetheart,_ you’ve gotta give me more than that. You’ve gotta give me your best. You’ve seen _Deep Throat,_ pretty girl, haven’t you?” She nods, eyes still uncertain where he goes with this, the motion sending trillions of electrified butterflies through his belly and charging him even more. He feels like a little boy already inside the candy store who is about to get his favourite candy.

“So. You deep throat me. And don’t waste a drop.”

She gasps, her lips part. Before he can worry he went too far she readjusts her body on the seat, looking for a more comfortable position. Her juices must be seeping into her panties because of him, and the thought makes him feel deliciously dizzy.

He almost forgets how to breathe.

“You want me -“ she swallows, her voice much lower than the cheerful flirty tone earlier,” you want me to suck your cock _and_ swallow your cum?”

He nods, primly on the surface. He is a fucking hero on the inside, battling with himself not to show how buzzed he already feels about this.

He should be ashamed of himself.

“All of it? And you’ll let me go.”

“And then I’ll let you go.”

“Without a speeding ticket,” she raises her chin, making her look regal.

“You’ve gotta make it worth my while, Sunshine. Prove to me you can follow some rules; show me a good time. If you swallow my cock all the way down like a good little girl and make me come... you are worthy.”

Her smile is back in full force, practically grinning at him. No sign of the tears.

She licks her pretty red lips instantly. 

“I’ll do my best. You’re gonna beg me for more. It will be so _so_ good, you’re going to beg me to marry you, Officer. I’m that good. You’ll see.”

Her enthusiasm is adorable. He doesn’t want to disappoint her that it’s not gonna happen. Not when she is about to blow him; when she is this excited about sucking cock. His sane self reminds him it’s not about _his_ cock in particular; from what little he’s got to know about her, she loves flirting shamelessly, and she‘s eager to suck a cock. He needs her to give him her best performance. He doesn’t want to disappoint her but his heart is already taken. Were they to cross paths in the future... as far as he is concerned, it’s definitely a one time deal.

“Go on now, don’t keep me waiting.”

Despite his calm demeanour, he feels nervous. His hands are fumbling with his zipper as if this were his first time; they are trembling and clumsy. Technically, it is his first time of this kind of sex, on the side of the road. The damn zip is stuck, too, and he has to break eye contact with her and drop his gaze, down to his bulging crotch and watch his fumbling hands pull the zipper down and bring him closer to getting his “candy”. 

He is wearing regular boxers today. They are maybe not as sexy as skin-tight boxer briefs or shorts but it’s too late to worry about such a blatant thing; in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. 

When he is done, he finds her forearms crossed and resting on top of the car door, as she is watching him. Her eyes are curious on one hand, dark and hungry on the other. Her pupils expanded a lot, they look so wide and inviting. He feels like an invisible force is pushing and pulling him towards her, closer and closer and closer. He catches himself and stops moving when the tip of his boots disappear under the vehicle and his thighs are almost touching her door. His crotch is practically right in front of her, causing her to pull back and straighten her back to have a better look at him.

Her lips are still vivid red, although she bit and nibbled on them quite a bit already; it’s surprising her lipstick still holds.

He smiles to himself, _Not for too long_. Soon, that pretty cherry red will be all over him. And as fleeting as it might be, he is going to savour every second of it until the time (and a good shower) washes any trace of her lips away. 

He pushes the waistband of his underwear down and frees his cock. 

“All of it?”

He chuckles. “All yours, pretty girl.”

She appears to be lost in her train of thought for a few moments, blinking. She puffs out her chest, squares her shoulders and blows out some air; her heated breath hitting him in an instant, and with that the reality of the moment downs in on him, too. 

Fuck. This. Is. Happening. Now.

She traces a finger up and down his shaft, so delicately, one could think it was made of glass; her touch is so gentle, lest she scratches delicate skin or draws blood. Her fingers curl around him tentatively at first as she squeezes, then she pumps him a couple of times. He is rock hard.

The smile is back on her lips and back in her eyes. She glances up at him through her lashes, blinking innocently. 

He is completely lost in the sensation of her touch. When she unexpectedly cups his balls - careful, always careful not to crush them - measuring the weight of them in her palm.

She releases a breath, which to him, she sounds impressed. 

“You _are_ fully loaded, Officer. Isn’t _that_ dangerous?” And, without further ado, she dips her head and licks around the head. And she keeps licking, up and down, until he feels wet all over his shaft. He lets his eyes flutter closed and the rest is kind of a blur.

When she first closes her lips around the tip, enveloping more and more of him, he tries to regulate his breathing in sync with her movements, and it works for a while. But then, he just lets himself go and _feel_ and - he kind of loses it. 

His breathing is ragged. His heart is beating so fast, kicking wildly against his chest. At any given moment his partner can push on the horn or worse, get out of the car or _, God knows,_ a stray car might drive by and ... fuck. He’d be royally busted.

But it feels so good.

“You’re getting off on this, too, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

He snaps his eyes open when he hears her hum and whimper around him. 

Her lipstick is smeared, almost completely gone otherwise, and she is bobbing her head up and down on him, doing some magical things with her tongue. 

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

But what almost sends him over the edge is the sight of the rest of her: Skirt hiked up, panties pushed to the side, one hand vigorously working herself, trying to get the right movement on her clit.

“Are you touching yourself? Fuck. You _are_ touching yourself.”

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

It was not part of the deal but look at her. She’s so hot, all flushed and needy and so desperate. So hot. How could he stop her? Now that would be cruel. 

She whimpers in response, opening her thighs for him - and fuck his life - he gets a glimpse on her clit before she pushes a finger into her pussy, then two, and the third follows, her fingers disappearing in her smoothly. She’s also increasing her tempo.

“Wish I could fuck you, baby,” he groans, his voice deep and hoarse.

At some point, his cock almost slips out of her mouth as she keeps fucking herself on her fingers, only catching the tip with her lips. She takes a deep breath, letting the head of his cock sit on her tongue until it disappears in her mouth inch by inch until his cock hits the back of her throat. The temporary barrier doesn’t stop her.

He shivers from the anticipation. 

“That’s it, that’s it. You’re doing so well. Taking my cock so well. Wish you could see.”

She mewls in response, and from the corner of his eyes, he sees her fidget, wriggling, trying to find a different angle that could work for both of them.

Her throat feels heavenly. Her throat feels tight. He imagines only fucking her pussy is tighter, she is such a sweet little thing. 

She gags. Even then, she doesn’t give up. She retreats and tries again until his dick is slipping easily into her throat, so tight, he can feel the vibrations around his cock when she swallows or breathes.

Despite his own no-touch rule, he reaches down and puts a hand on her throat. He is desperate to feel his cock inside her.

“I can feel my cock in your throat. Do you hear me?”

The goosebumps are back and rising on his skin like a tidal wave, leaving a heavenly prickling sensation behind, and _God,_ he hopes she is enjoying herself just as much. If her noises are anything to go by, she does. 

“Here.” His self imposed no touching rule be damned he reaches for her free arm that is still holding tightly the frame of the door. He pries her fingers away, one by one. God, her grip is just as tight as her throat around him. 

He turns her hand and puts her palm on her throat. “Can you feel it?”

She moans in response and increases the suction on his cock.

“That’s my cock. _God,_ you were so hungry for a thick one, weren’t you? What wouldn’t I give to fuck your face, sweetheart. But I can’t. Wish I could, but I can’t. Not with my partner watching and waiting for me.”

He tries not to move much, for all intents and purposes, he still has to keep his cover. She continues touching herself with her fingers, and work him with her tongue and teeth, not letting up; appreciative hums reverberating through her throat.

And even though he cannot touch her the way he wants to, he compensates through his words and keeps talking.

“Does sucking my cock on the side of the road makes you horny? I know it does. I can see how desperate you are. Shit. I can hear it.

“Bet your fingers are wet to the last joint, too. I can hear it slipping in and out. God. You’re so wet for this.

“Come on, Sunshine. Come on. You’re doing so well. 

“Go on, rub your clit for me. Fuck yourself on your fingers.”

His voice is cracking, even to his own ears, deep and silky but out of breath.

She is getting close, too, that much is evident; as her movements turn erratic.

He glances over at her and sees tears form in her eyes. If that’s from the cock in her throat or the rabid way she is working his cock or her desperate chase for her own orgasm... He’d like to believe it’s all three.

She whimpers. “I can’t - uh - I cannot - “ Sweet thing is so desperate for air.

He cups her chin with one hand. “Yes, yes, you can.” She whimpers. “Don’t forget,” he tightens his grip,“ all you have to do is swallow it.”

(It’s a close call, but she doesn’t waste a drop.)

*

When he returns to the patrol car, Officer Murphy is still on his phone, seemingly still not bored and still playing. He seems to be in a better mood, too, apparently having made it through ‘an impossible level’ and someone matching him on _Tinder_.

Hallelujah.

He hums. “One of these days you’ll need glasses.“

“Nah. My eyesight is excellent. I’m killing this game.”

“If you say so.” His voice is giddy to his own ears and it might be noticeable enough. Noticeable, even for Officer Murphy.

“You’ve been away for long,” he comments, but he‘s not even looking at him. He is still staring at his screen, now busy with thumbing through the pictures of a brunette. “Did you make the Princess cry? Or what?“ He snorts, “ did she need a hug?”

He smiles to himself - rather proudly. “Yeah, you can - say that.”

Murphy lets his phone drop into his lap and nods towards the steering wheel. “You want me to take over?”

He eyes him. “Would you?”

“Only if I have to. You’re the boss.”

He sighs and starts the engine. 

“Put away that phone finally, Officer. That thing shouldn’t even be with you during your shift.”

 _“Jesus._ Live a little.”

Bellamy snorts in response but doesn’t comment on it.

If only he knew.

..

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a short epilogue after this which I couldn’t resist. However, if you like where it ended, you can ignore the epilogue.


	2. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS AN EPILOGUE OR ALTERNATIVE ENDING IF YOU PREFER

Shortly after 10 PM, his shift has finally ended. He is in the locker room, changing out of his patrol uniform. He puts his service gun, his badge diligently on the bench, and reaches into the locker for his personal items he left behind in the morning before his shift started. 

Another pack of gum. 

His watch. 

His phone. It’s on silent mode, still. Sometimes he forgets to switch it from ring mode to silent and then he can listen to Officer Miller complain how it was driving him insane when someone tried to call him repeatedly.

It only happened two times, though. Not the end of the world.

As he puts his belt on, his phone lights up with a string of incoming texts.

  
  
  


**From** _My Sunshine_

_What’s the verdict, Officer?_

_Did I blowww your mind?_

_(I told you Murphy wouldn’t even notice)_

_You’re not getting into any trouble, are you? I confess_

  
  
  


_Guilty AF._

_Yeah, babe. You’re THE BEST._

_You’re lucky I had the foresight to park diagonally, or else your pretty mouth would be on camera._

  
  
  


_Uh-oh_

_Amongst other things ..._

_You gonna punish me, Officer Blake?_

  
  
  


_Someone has to._

  
  
  


_Cannot wait_

_Don’t forget the handcuffs 😉_

  
  
  


… .

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Any form of feedback (kudos/comments/bookmarks) are welcome and make my day! 🧚


End file.
